Brief Lives
by algie888
Summary: "I guess it's because you were nice to me in prison," he said. "And besides, this is a two person act, Low-Key. You need a partner to grift." "I know all the acts in the trade," Loki said, and Shadow grinned when he heard the lyrical tones of Minnesota colour his voice, "and you do not need a partner, Baldur Odinson."


**A/N: I had wanted to read a fic like this since, like, forever. But no one, to my knowledge, has made one yet. Meh. At the rate I'm going, I may as well do a 'Loki Through the Fandom' series, shouldn't I? **

* * *

The voices were loud and obnoxious, ringing against the metal plating of the walls. Yadda yadda yadda, blah blah blah.

"Do you mind if I go into see him?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I have to ask you to leave. This is a classified and secured area, I am going to require that you vacate the premises."

"Look, I know he's in here, just let me in!"

Tony glanced up from where he was working to see the young fair haired behemoth of a man argue against a young sprightly S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. This had been going on for some half hour now, with a roster of various agents attempting to deter the guy. With a resigned sigh, he stood, newspaper slapping against the worktop in irritation.

"What seems to be the problem?" Tony asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he walked forwards to meet the two. The young woman quailed, but the man stood regally, eyeing Tony with a quiet sort of deadliness.

"You want him to talk, right?" the man asked, turning to glance up at the security camera before staring down at Tony. "I can make him talk." His tone was accent-less, but Tony could hear a sense of regal finality in it, a sort of booming aura that reverberated across the room. _Listen to me_, it seemed to say.

"You're a civillian," Tony said, raising his eyebrows, and waved a screwdriver in a circle around the man's body to emphasise his point. "We can't let you in there. That guy's crazy. He'd eat you alive."

"I'm an old friend of his," the man said. "I knew him back in the eighties- he knows me. I'll be fine in there."

"Friend?" Tony asked incredulously, his eyebrows shooting upwards. "That guy has friends?"

"Yes," said the man, laughing quietly. "He's pretty enigmatic once you get to know him, you know. A real snake."

Tony wasn't easily fooled. "How do we know you aren't gonna bust him out? You look like the Pinkie to his Brain- no offense, big guy," Tony said, patting the back of his palm against the man's bicep, which curled threateningly under Tony's warm palm. He wasn't fazed, though.

The man smiled humourlessly, his teeth baring with just enough glint in his eye to verge on 'psychopathic', but still on the right side of the line to remain 'civil'. Tony had since perfected the smile himself. "I'm not gonna bust him. I've had my taste of jail time, and I don't want back in."

"What does happen when you drop the soap?" Tony asked, a smirk gracing his features, but the man failed to react. Tony held his hands up in surrender, "Just curious, no need to answer."

"Thought so."

There was silence for a while, and the S.H.I.E.L.D. girl pressed her hand up to her bluetooth. "I can let you in there for ten minutes, tops, sir," she said, her voice small and reedy, as though her heart had been thrust up into her throat.

The blonde grinned at the woman, and then at Tony. He certainly was less imposing when the dimples broke out, Tony had to say. Looked a lot like Thor in that respect. "Wonderful. Which way is it?"

"Straight, then left. Here, I'll take you," Tony said, waving a hand for the man to follow. The Agent strode out in front of them, looking everywhere and no where at the same time. Was that in the handbook? The blonde moved easily to his side as they walked down the corridor, and Tony couldn't help but be curious - it was in his nature. "You said you knew him," he began as they reached the door, turning to the man with an accusatory look in his eyes. "What are you? Wife? Son? Girlfriend- or is it boyfriend?"

The man smirked, one hand on the door. "Cellmate. And then some."

Tony blinked as the man stepped through, the door swinging shut. Who the hell was this guy?

"Hey, Agent, um," Tony waved his hand vaguely at her, and she raised a single eyebrow, not giving him her name. "Whatever. Who was that?"

She shrugged. "He gave us some crazy alias, or something. Shadow Moon, I think it was."

"_Shadow Moon_?" Tony asked incredulously. "Was his mom on acid when she named him? Jesus," he shook his head, and glanced at the side view board, where a projection of Shadow and Loki stood. "Wait a minute. Can we get sound on this thing? He's actually talking."

* * *

"Low-Key," murmured the man.

"Shadow," Loki replied, standing.

"Loki."

"Baldur."

"Brother."

Loki's face broke out into a grin, an odd expression of mild pain, as though it was a motion long forgotten. "How are you, Shadow? It's been a while now, hasn't it? How is everyone?" The mellow pleasantries seemed to amuse him as he said it, as though he found them adorably quaint.

"Haven't seen Whiskey Jack in a while, but the Zoryas are fine. Easter is as lovely as ever, and Mr. Nancy is still kicking. Apparently he's got two kids. Which reminds me- who the heck is Dream?"

Loki laughed loudly. "Dream is an old friend of mine," he admitted, and then frowned. "No, perhaps not friend. He is someone I was once indebted to, many years ago. I was young then, of course, but Thor and Odin were still fools."

"Oh. Right, Wednesday. I can never remember his other names- Wodin, Odin, Wednesday, Gallows God... How _is_ father?" Shadow asked without stopping for breath for a single moment, tilting his head to the side.

Loki's expression tightened. "He's not my father, Shadow. He was yours, and Thor's, but never mine."

"About Thor," Shadow said, ignoring Loki's comment, "I thought he died in the thirties. Wednesday said something about a shotgun?"

"Wednesday lies often," Loki said tautly, and Shadow shrugged, watching the fallen God pace in his cell. "How long has it been, Shadow? Twenty years? Thirty?"

"Just over thirty now. Your accent's changed, and your hair," he commented offhandedly. "Are you always this pale?"

"It depends on who is watching," said Loki, offhandedly. "It has been so long since I had last seen you, Shadow. What did I look like then?" he asked, his voice small as he sat back down on the bench.

"You were a grifter from Minnesota, red hair and pasty skin," Shadow supplied, crossing burly arms over his chest. "Low-Key Lyesmith."

"Ah," Loki said, a bite of humour tracing in his voice. "Low-Key. Not my best of aliases, granted."

"You kept _me_ in the dark," Shadow commented. "That's got to mean something, Loki."

"You inherited Wednesday's sense of stupidity," Loki murmured, smirking. "It would not have taken much to fool. I may as well have named myself 'Loke E. Thegod', and you would have been entirely oblivious to the glaring hints."

"Very funny, Loki," Shadow said, although it was obvious it wasn't. "Now, onto the meat. What are you doing here?"

"Ah. I was hoping we wouldn't come to this, Baldur," Loki stood, and smirked as Shadow flinched. "I simply want to be noticed, is that enough for you?"

Shadow shrugged. "I've never been one for wordy explanations, Loki. That's good enough."

The caged God blinked, and tilted his head to the side. "You inherited Wednesday's sense of stupidity, that's certainly true."

"More like your sense of a situation, brother," Shadow smirked. "Working with Wednesday made me appreciate a simple answer rather than a long one."

"I can see that," Loki murmured, and walked up to the glass. "How are you, Shadow? Truly?"

Shadow shook his head, and looked away. "It's wrong seeing you like this, Loki. You're not this," he said, waving his hand at his emerald-clad body.

"Would you prefer to see me in my form to the Celts?" Loki asked, his voice low and guttural, his eyes like twin coals. "They called me Cu-Chuchalain. The Greeks knew me as Hermes, the Indians of the wild planes knew me as Coyote. The Africans of the west know me as Anansi."

"But I met Mr. Nancy," interjected Shadow, tilting his head to the side. "You definitely aren't him."

"All Gods are the same sides of a cube," Loki explained patiently, and Shadow wondered what he'd be like as an older brother. "We are many faceted, many splendoured. Simply labelling us would not to. The Endless ensure that we stay in our place, dear brother."

"I don't think Mr. Nancy would be too happy with you saying you were the same as he were," Shadow laughed, quirking an eyebrow.

"No," Loki agreed, leaning back slightly. "I don't think he would."

"He'd accuse you of attempting to steal his 'tiger's balls' story," Shadow said, coming to look at the cage. Loki backed away slowly as his brother approached, examining the glass. "I'm guessing there's some sort of defense mechanism? There's no way you wouldn't have broken out otherwise."

"Yes," Loki said. "A single scratch, and I fall from the heavens like Lucifer of the Exodus."

"What about magic? Have you tried that?" Shadow asked, tracing nonsense patterns into the glass, watching as the grease from his fingers smudged against the reflection of his face.

"Why would I want to, little brother?" he asked, and Shadow's head snapped up, eyes wide. Loki continued as though nothing happened. "Why do you wish to help me, Shadow? I wish to enslave your race, however you attempt to release me from this cage. A fruitless task, although you have my gratitude."

Shadow sighed. "I guess it's because you were nice to me in prison," he said. "And besides, this is a two person act, Low-Key. You need a partner to grift."

"I know all the acts in the trade," Loki said, and Shadow grinned when he heard the lyrical tones of Minnesota colour his voice, "and you do not need a partner, Baldur Odinson."

"You do for the good stuff," argued Shadow. "Like the fiddler one."

Loki's eyebrows raised. "Where did you hear of that?"

"Here and there," he said absently, waving a hand. "Sigyn misses you, by the way. I met her a year ago, working at a nail parlour. Don't ask what I was doing there. She still loves you, you know," he commented, and Loki made a face.

"Tell her that feelings are failing to return," Loki laughed, turning away from his younger brother to face the cameras.

"You ought to be nicer to her," Shadow said, standing to leave.

"I am not nice, Shadow," retorted Loki, his voice a hiss in the quiet air, so still you could almost taste the bitter, metallic anger.

"You used to be," Shadow murmured, and turned. But, before he reached the door, he placed a hand on the handle, and called out, "Loki?"

"Yes?" he asked, looking up in surprise. "What is it, Shadow?"

"Good to have you home, brother."

Loki smirked. "Off with you, Shadow. Go say hello to Thor. He would be ridiculously overjoyed to meet you, the oaf. Perhaps he thinks himself a good elder brother. Norns know what would happen when you talk- perhaps your stupidity cycles would synchronise?"

Shadow bit out a laugh. "God, I've missed your cynicism. It's been too long. We should talk more, Loki. Maybe over a coffee? I know a great place."

"Perhaps once I have conquered this domain, perhaps then we may venture out. It has been far too long since I have tasted the bitter bite of coffee upon my tongue," he admitted, and Shadow smirked.

"Maybe. Make sure you leave a Starbucks standing, though. I make yechy coffee," Shadow commented, and Loki smirked wryly.

"If you so wish, Shadow."

"I'll miss you, brother. Say hello to Wednesday for me."

"Off with you," Loki said again, and Shadow left the room.

Loki sighed, leaning back onto the bench with arms crossed about his chest. Faces flashed though his mind- The Coyote, Apple Johnny, Easter, Bilquis, Baldur, The Forgotten God. All of them.

Like father, like son.


End file.
